


Not Enough

by cherry619



Series: Not Enough Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:33:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherry619/pseuds/cherry619
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When cutting himself stops becoming enough Sam decides to do something a little more drastic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Enough

_There’s nothing you can say  
Nothing you can do  
There’s nothing in between  
You know the truth  
Nothing left to face  
There’s nothing left to lose  
Nothing takes your place_

  
  
  
You know what’s pathetic?  
  
Pathetic is trying to date a girl who is way out of your league. Pathetic is trying to fix a broken car window even though you know you can’t fix it. Pathetic is trying to hold onto a relationship even though it’s going in the dumps.   
  
Pathetic is me.   
  
It was a harsh reality Sam had to deal with. With the days getting harder and the nights getting longer he was faced with the reality of how much he hated himself. With how much he hated looking in the mirror now a days; scared he’ll see the monster he knows is hiding there in wait.   
  
It was so hard not to just off himself and get it over with. To just put the gun in his mouth and end it all even if he was going to Hell, at least Dean would finally be at peace.   
  
But the sad reality of that fact was he was too scared to do it.   
  
The big bad demon hunter extraordinaire that brought on the apocalypse was too scared to do the right thing. Too scared to have to face Hell. Too scared to face the facts.   
  
Not a day goes by that he doesn’t think about it though.   
  
He could be washing tables and silently contemplate if a knife would be better than a gun or maybe he needs to do something more drastic like hanging himself?   
  
It all comes out the same though. He’s a masochistic pathetic coward that on one side owns up to his mistakes and at least tries to punish himself for it. On the other he’s too scared to end it all because he doesn’t want to face the harsh facts that without him the world would be at a better place. Dean would be better.   
  
 _Dean…_  
  
It seems as if Dean is only a distant memory by now. Every time he get’s the guts to call Dean he either receives a voice mail or Dean’s angry retort to ‘leave him the hell alone already’.  
  
Which is fine by him but it still stings. Hurts worst than it should. Almost like adding salt to a an open wound. Except this wound it would never heal. He could never try to attempt to fix the aching wound he himself created.   
  
The bar is rather empty this afternoon which Sam is rather thankful of. He doesn’t like putting on a front for these people but he doesn’t want to scare every one away from the bar either. He may be supposed evil but he still wanted his boss to have steady customers.   
  
He was a nice guy. Round in the middle with a no bullshit attitude that reminded him to much of Bobby.   
  
After he initially got the job he fell into a steady routine of get up, take a shower, get dressed, hygiene, out the door.   
  
Somewhere in that mix he manages to spend time in his bathroom alone. Holding the gleaming, cold metal of a razor blade. Contemplating if he should just cut his jugular vein and end it all. It would be so easy….just one swipe….just one.  
  
He looks down at his covered wrist almost imagining himself in the same bathroom. Sitting on the floor pressing the razor down into his skin. Watching as blood wells in its wake.   
  
It was almost euphoric. The sting is quickly replaced with the sense of judgment. The thought that at least he’s punishing himself in a fair and just manor. He deserves more of course but being a masochistic pathetic coward definitely had its down side.   
  
“Keith!”  
  
Sam jerked up at the harsh yell recognizing the voice as his boss. He must have been day dreaming. Now he’s not only a suicidal freak he’s a  _stupid_  suicidal freak. “Yeah?” Sam says shakily shaking his head of the burdening thoughts. Later he tells himself.  _Later._  
  
“What is with you boy? This is the third time today you wandered off into La-La land! I don’t pay you to day dream.”   
  
“Sorry,” Sam licks his lips suddenly trying to think of a legitimate lie to tell. “I….just…uh…I have a lot on my mind right now.”   
  
Suddenly his boss’ angry expression turns sympathetic.   
  
Sam’s hates it.   
  
He doesn’t deserve his sympathy or understanding. No one can understand what it’s like to let Lucifer out, drink demon blood, and have there own brother hate them. No one!   
  
“Are you ok Keith?”  
  
 _Am I ok?_  Sam likes to think no. But on the other hand he deserves everything that’s coming to him. “Yeah I’m fine.”   
  
Somehow the well intentioned lie doesn’t come out as strong as he hoped. His voice cracks when he says it and he knows his boss’ no bull shit attitude will see right through it.   
  
“Were pretty slow today Keith, why don’t you head on home.”  
  
It’s not a question. It’s an order. And good for nothing, low life losers like himself obey orders even if it’s too little, too late.   
  
“Sure, yeah. Thanks man I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that Sam hangs up the dish towel and collects his things and heads home.   
  


  
_When they say  
You’re not that strong  
You’re not that weak  
It’s not your fault  
And when you climb up to your hill  
Up to your place  
I hope your well_   


  
  
  
The motel is pretty bland compared to Winchester standards.   
  
Nothing special or note worthy about it. Just a bed, standard TV and bathroom.   
  
Yet for some odd reason Sam thinks it’s perfect. It’s not crummy enough that the pillows smell of smoke but it’s still a motel and hopefully no one would be able to find him. Not Bobby and definitely not Dean. He was too ashamed to face them.   
  
Too afraid he’ll be judged on the spot like countless times before.   
  
Laughing out a small huff he dropped his wallet and phone on the bed side table.   
  
He was prepared to take a shower hoping that would make him feel better but then he eyed his duffel. It was sitting in a dark corner of the room; untouched and unwanted.  
  
Sam can understand the feeling.  
  
Walking over to the lone duffel he dug through it until his hand closed around the small plastic case inside.   
  
He yanked it out and started at it. Long and hard.  
  
The metal was still shiny and gleaming. There was no trace of blood on it but Sam knew better.   
  
Sam knew how much blood had been spilled on the tiny piece of metal. Yet Sam also knew that the sacrifice was never enough.   
  
Sighing Sam headed toward the bathroom.  
  
Once safely inside he sat down on the tile and rolled up his sleeves. His left wrist was littered with scars from earlier  _punishments._  Some are red and inflamed, probably from infection but others are the same color as his skin.   
  
It’s always the same. They all fade away eventually.   
  
 _Just like I wish I could_  Sam though sadly.   
  
Pressing the metal into his skin he bit his lip as he dragged the blade smoothly across.   
  
He enjoyed the sensation of blood welling then slowly falling to the floor. He enjoyed tasting his own blood as he bit through his lip.  
  
He enjoyed the feeling that at least he’s paying for his sins.   
  
It felt like he sat there for hours. The only thing keeping him company was his trusty razor blade and the leaky sink. It always ended with Sam sitting in the bathroom thinking of better ways to punish himself.   
  
Cutting was just helping him get through life but he knew that it was never enough. Nothing ever was.  
  
He looked down at the mangled skin of his wrist. He couldn’t tell where the blood began and ended. Somehow a sense of  _not enough_  washed over him.   
  
He started the apocalypse. Pretty much ended the world and all he could do to repent was cut little scars into his wrist. Most people if not any never even saw them.   
  
His own brother won’t even talk to him.   
  
He doesn’t even know the last time he heard Dean’s voice.   
  
The thought made him cry. Tears spilled down his cheeks to drip on the floor mixing with the blood.   
  
“Dean…” He sobbed as he buried his head into his bent knees.   
  
He remembered the relationship he use to share with Dean. How happy and carefree they were. Not worrying what people thought. They were each others world.  
  
 _Until I screwed it up._    
  
Now Sam was nowhere in Dean’s world. Sam was an afterthought, a curse, something that has burdened Dean since the age of four.   
  
If Sam tired hard enough he could almost hear Dean’s sweet voice when they made love. Promising things that are only a fleeting thought now.   
  
 _Dean would always kiss him senseless. Make him feel important even though Sam knew he was hardly special.  
  
He remembered Dean being jealous when Sam told the story of him and Ruby having sex.   
He also remembered later that day when Dean made sure he remembered who owned him.  
  
He could also remember when things were getting to the nail and Sam was getting stressed by the second how Dean had strutted over to the bed with a leery grin and Sam welcomed it whole-heartedly.  
  
He could lastly remember Dean’s voice as he muttered sweet nothings into the night. Made promises he intended to keep forever.  
  
“Just me and you baby. We can get through this together.”_  
  
Sam thought they could. He believed every word Dean said hook, line and sinker.   
  
In the end it was Sam who destroyed that promise. It was Sam who ruined it for Dean. Ruined there special life that Dean promised, ruined the idea that someday they might get out of hunting. He ruined it all and now the consequences didn’t just cost  _him_  his sanity and self worth.   
  
It cost everyone everything.   
  
All because of him.   
  
Looking down at his wrist through blurry eyes Sam knew what he had to do.   
  
The fleeting hope that he could somehow fix everything. That he could mend the broken relationship him and Dean had. And that cutting himself was a just and fair punishment left the building.   
  
He deserved so much more.   
  
He’s doing himself and the world a favor. Most importantly he’s doing Dean a favor.   
  
It’s for the best.   
  
Sam settled the blade on his wrist and slashed deeper. Aiming for veins and anything vital.  
  
A strangled yell left his throat. But it wasn’t for the pain it was for the emotional pain. The pain that he could never see Dean again or tell him how sorry he was. Tell him how much he loved him. The pain of the unknown. The pain of having to take another life as well.   
  
He could never make anything right. Maybe he never could and was just setting himself up for a harsh let down.  
  
With shaking hands he ignored the pain in his left wrist and slashed through his right one.   
  
Blood immediately welled and began a steady drip on the floor.  
  
The drip was oddly comforting. It was like hearing the seconds of his life tick by one drip at a time.  
  
He didn’t know what time it was or what day it was for that matter.  
  
All sense of being and judgment were suddenly gone. He slid down all the way to lay on the cold tiled floor subjecting himself to the harsh reality that this was for the best.   
  
Suddenly more tears welled up in his eyes as he remembered why he was so emotional in the first place.   
  
It was nothing special when they had sex.   
  
It was a quick fuck in the Impala. More of an angry- _I’m disappointed in you Sammy so I’m going to use my cock to teach you a lesson_ -fuck than anything.   
  
But turns out that Dean’s cock actually had magical teaching powers because Sam starting getting sick in the mornings.   
  
At first he thought he was so stressed that he was getting a cold or flu at worst but then in a backwaters diner when Dean was having his  _secret angel meeting_ -which Sam petulantly hates-out back Sam had just came out of the bathroom after heaving up all he ate.   
  
One of waitresses gave him a sympathetic smile and asked how far along he was.  
  
That’s when he bought the pregnancy test and all was history.   
  
He was afraid to tell Dean because he didn’t want his brother-the love of his life-mad at him for something else.   
  
He could just imagine what Dean would say.  
  
 _“Well you demonic dumbass you should have made sure I had a condom on! You were so busy being a slut for me you forgot I need protection from your demonic germs. Now you want to ruin my life some more freak!”_  
  
 _I’m sorry_  Sam cried silently. He curled up into himself even more as his injured hand shakily found its way to his belly. Silently asking his unborn child for forgiveness and understanding.   
  
He was about two months pregnant now. No where near showing but he figured it would cause the least amount of damage if he ever decided to kill himself.   
  
Somehow the pain he felt didn’t come with the brochure. This was supposed to be easy.   
  
He spent countless hours pondering if this was for the best and in the end if it was worth it. In the end he decided yes. But now lying on some dingy motel, two months pregnant and about to die he couldn’t fathom how he ever thought that.   
  
He was doing the baby a favor though. The baby didn’t need a demonic freak like him as a Dad and didn’t need to be burdened with him as well.   
 _For the baby…  
And   
For Dean…._  
With that thought he closed his eyes and settled in for his new life in Hell.   
  
 _Maybe they can punish me there…  
I deserve it._  
  


  
_There’s nothing left to prove  
Nothing I won’t do  
Nothing like the pain  
I feel for you  
Nothing left to hide  
Nothing left to fear  
I am always here_   


  
  
  
  
Its 2:34 in the morning when Dean get’s the call.  
  
He shouldn’t be all that surprised because Sam calling him at bizarre hours of the night is patented Sam fashion.   
  
One time the kid decided it would be ok to get drunk and call him at 5:00 in the morning to spew his  _emo_  shit about how guilty he felt. What was that saying though?  
  
Aww…too little, too late. Not my problem little brother.   
  
That’s exactly what he told him as he hung up.   
  
He tried to pretend that  _Smoke on the water_  wasn’t blaring out of his phone which was placed precariously next to his head.  
  
Tried to pretend that he secretly didn’t have a brother to have to trail behind and clean up all his messes.   
  
Tried to pretend that he was in a warm bed with the girl of his dreams and he worked a 9 to 5 job with 2.5 kids and his shit hole of a life wasn’t happening.  
  
But it was…unfortunately for him.   
  
Grabbing the phone angrily off the bed he flipped it open with a retorted, “What! I swear Sam can’t I have a freakin day to myself without you trying to say sorry to me! I wish you would just shut the hell up for once!”  
  
Dean was breathing heavy and he then realized that Sam didn’t answer back. Maybe the kid finally took the hint but with his shitty luck he knew how unlikely it was.   
  
“Sam?” Dean asked with a frown. If Sam was just drunk again he would strangle him through the phone.   
  
“Is this Dean?” An unfamiliar voice squeaked out.   
  
That instantly put his hackles arise. “Who is this?” He demanded in as menacing a voice he could muster.   
  
“M….my name’s Tony,” He heard an audible gulp at the end and couldn’t help but smirk. “I’m Keith’s boss.”  
  
Dean furrowed his brow. Boss? Keith? The name was obviously an alias but Sam never mentioned getting a job somewhere but when did he ever talk long enough to him for Sam to mention anything. “Where the hell is Sam? Why do you have his phone!” Dean retorted not letting guilt seep into his heart. This wasn’t his fault. Sam made his line in the sand and now he had to stand behind it.   
  
“Who’s Sam? Anyway I’m in the hospital and your name was on his phone.”   
  
Hospital? He may have a personal grudge with the kid but he didn’t want to see him end up in the hospital. What had happened? Did Sam continue hunting? Highly unlikely but it was a possibility. After all, all Winchesters know they can’t outrun there past.   
  
If it wasn’t hunting what was it? Maybe the dumb shit got alcohol poisoning. Serves the dumbass right for drinking so much whiskey. Dean could have sworn the last time he called that he could smell the stuff leeching out of the phone. Truly disgusting and pathetic if you asked him.   
  
“Dean?” The annoying voice called again. He must have zoned out for awhile.  
  
“Listen man I can’t come there I’m sorry but-” Dean started but suddenly the voice got angry. And oh no,  _no_  one yells at Dean Winchester.  
  
“Wait! Dean you have to come. What are you to him like a brother or something?”  
  
Or something would have been the more appropriate title yes but- “Brother I’m his brother. Listen dude-”   
  
“No you listen you jackass if Keith is your brother than you better get your ass down here because there not telling me anything and when I went to Keith’s house, because he didn’t show up for work, I found him in the bathroom not breathing. I did CPR till the ambulance got there but-”  
  
Suddenly the voice-Tony-got shaky and Dean had to take an inhaled breath. Apart from being called a jackass he was suddenly hit with the clarity that Sam’s dead.   
  
Oh God Sam’s dead. Sammy’s dead! They could already have his body at the morgue and he died thinking I hated him.   
  
He felt tears leak out of his eyes.   
  
Suddenly all the harping on Sam he’s been doing for the past week didn’t seem very funny.   
  
“Is-I..s…he dead?” Dean asked dreadfully. He couldn’t keep the tremor out of his voice and he hated how weak he sounded.   
  
“No! God no….there was just a lot of blood and I didn’t know where it began and ended and…” Tony took a pause as if trying to come up with the right words. “I don’t know what was wrong there was just….oh God…so much blood and I tried all I could and he was so blue and…”  
  
Tony was obviously on the verge of a mental breakdown. Dean was about to be right there with him.  
  
Not dead  _thank God_  but it still sounded bad. Dean’s earlier thoughts about going back to sleep quickly vanished as he grabbed his lone pair of jeans and somehow managed to get them on with one hand. Which by the way takes fucking talent he might add.   
  
“Where are you at?” Dean asked calmly trying to reign in his emotions. If he lost it now he would never be able to get it under control.   
  
Tony still seemed like a wreck as he cleared his throat. “Garber, Oklahoma. St. John’s Hospital. It’s a small town you can’t miss it.”  
  
“Ok, ok I’ll be there in,” Dean stopped to check the time. It was already 3:00. Dean didn’t think he’d been on the phone that long. “About 2 hours.” He wasn’t that far away surprisingly and if he left now with no traffic he would get there faster.   
  
“They didn’t tell you anything at all?” Dean asked incredulously. Some hospitals liked to hail the rule of family only but if Sam hadn’t been breathing….  
  
It was still hard to think about it but whatever his name said he was ok or at least alive.   
  
Not breathing….  
  
Yet Dean still tried to snark on him. What the hell was his problem?  
  
“No nothing…I tried getting information but I’m not related so…”  
  
Dean already knew. Those damn stickly bastards. He could already tell that he and the hospital personnel weren’t going to get along. “Alright I’ll be there in a few. Keep trying to garner information, alright?”  
  
“Ok…thanks for coming Dean. He talks a lot about you but I never knew you were brothers. I thought maybe…you were his ex or something.”  
  
Now if that doesn’t make Dean feel shittier he doesn’t know what does.   
  
He hated to state that it was true but in a bizarre sense it was. He was playing a cold hard ex to the boot.   
  
And Sam was playing the lovesick girlfriend pretty well too.  
  
And weren’t they a sad pathetic bunch?   
  
“I’ll see you soon.” And with that he hung up and began packing.   
  


  
_When they say  
You’re not that strong  
You’re not that weak  
It’s not your fault  
And when you climb up to your hill  
Up to your place  
I hope your well_   


  
  
  
Dean hated hospitals  
  
Not in the way that all the doctors were stiff minded and the smell of antiseptic made his head spin but in the way that hospitals reeked of death.   
  
Others might view hospitals as a safe haven. But Winchesters viewed it as death warmed over. That if you’re in a hospital it had to be bad.  
  
Which in a sense it was.   
  
Walking through the automatic doors Dean had to repress a shudder. He  _loathed_  hospitals.  
  
He looked around the measly waiting room to see a Mother with a crying daughter and a Grandma and Grandpa couple but that was about it.   
  
None of them he suspected were Tony.   
  
He never even asked what they guy looked like so he could find him.   
  
Of course to his defense Dean wasn’t thinking to clearly.   
  
Furrowing his brow he stepped out of the doors thinking maybe he was outside. It was quiet there too.   
  
Dean was about to walk back in a do a more thorough check when he heard the soft sound of a lighter being lit.   
  
Craning his neck around the building he noticed a short pudgy man shakily lighting a cigarette.   
He found his man.  
  
“Tony?” Dean questioned softly.   
  
Tony looked spooked as he jumped from the sudden noise and almost dropped his newly lit cigarette.   
  
“Sorry,” He said sheepishly. “I’m a little shaky.”   
  
Dean could understand how he felt.   
  
Tony extended a hand and said, “You must be Dean. It’s nice to put a face to a name.”  
  
Even though Dean was feeling lower than dirt he managed a small smile. Dean quickly shook the short man’s hand and got down to business.   
  
“So you don’t know what happened?” Dean questioned seriously.   
  
Tony’s small smile seemed to melt. “No,” He said sadly. “I tried but all they said was he was breathing and alive but that was all they could discuss with me. They said they had to do immediate surgery and they would tell me when he was out.”   
  
Surgery? Dean paled at that. He didn’t realize how bad this shit was! “Ok,” Dean said softly trying not to lose his small breakfast on the pavement.   
  
It all started crashing down and settling in now. Sam was in a hospital and he was not breathing at the sight. And all the doctors could say was he was alive and breathing.   
  
That’s always the universal sign of things are critical as shit.   
  
Rubbing his tired eyes he gave a forced smile. “It’s alright I’ll probably be able to find out more now. You can go home if you want?” Dean offered softly.  
  
Tony seemed hesitant but the idea of getting some sleep won him over. “Ok, I’ll come visit him when he’s allowed visitors. And oh yeah! Here’s the things that were on him.”  
  
Tony pulled out a small plastic bag that didn’t look like it housed much.  
  
Dean took the offered bag and said goodbye as Tony made his way to his car.   
  
Opening it he pulled out a set of keys, a lighter and a picture.   
  
Dean was puzzled it was odd for Sam to house something as sentimental as a picture. In his pocket no less.   
  
Unfolding the crinkled piece of paper he took a startled gasp at what he saw.  
  
It was a picture of….. _him._  
  
It was obviously taken a year ago and he was smiling happily as he talked about something or another.  
  
The paper was worn down. The laminate on it was worse for wear and showed signs of constant use.   
  
Like looking at it everyday.   
  
Dean slid down the brick wall and silently cried.  
  


  
_What you want  
What you lost  
What you had  
What is gone is over  
What you’ve got  
What you love  
What you need  
What you have is so real_   


  
  
  
Dean was literally blown away by the verdict.  
  
As first he laughed in the doctor’s face at how absurd it was.   
  
Sam cutting himself? Trying to kill himself? Hardy har har. But then the doctor’s face grew annoyed as he dragged Dean off to Sam’s room. That’s when he knew he was serious.   
  
Sam was pale and sweaty. He’d been put on a suicide watch for 72 hours and strapped down with soft restraints.   
  
His wrists were bandaged and his face was covered in an oxygen mask.   
  
The doctor said it was until he got his strength back. With the surgery and the blood transfusions he just needed a little help breathing.   
  
For some reason Dean wasn’t angry like he should be.  
  
He was sad. Really fucking sad. It took all his strength not to cry like a little girl.  
  
Somehow Dean knew he was partly to blame for this. Reminding Sam of his failures and constantly picking out his faults probably didn’t help any. Dean viewed Sam as unbreakable.   
  
But then in good ole’ Sam fashion he had to go and prove big brother wrong.   
  
Congratulations Sammy you won.  
  
The doctors were also leery.  
  
Like they had a big secret they were afraid to tell Dean or that they just out right didn’t trust him.   
  
Dean decided to go with the latter. He thought he was just being paranoid but something still nagged at him.   
  


  
_It’s not enough  
It’s not enough  
It’s not enough  
It’s not enough, I’m sorry  
It’s not enough  
It’s not enough  
It’s not enough  
It’s not enough_   


  
  
  
It was four days after the incident and the hospital was ready to release Sam.   
  
They suggested all sorts of help and pamphlets and care guides until Dean had enough and told them all to shove it up the ass.   
  
The doctor looked at him like he should be the one committed but left them alone.   
  
Which was fucking awkward as hell.   
  
Sam didn’t speak unless asked a question with his common yes or no answer.   
  
He was broody and difficult. And also emotional. Dean’s been woken up a couple of times in the night by Sam silently crying. Any attempt to help only made it worse.   
  
Now Sam was lying in the hospital bed with his wrists balanced on two pillows. He was looking out the window with a soft look on his face. Like if he didn’t watch the clouds every day then they would disappear. For some reason that analogy didn’t sit well with Dean.   
  
Dean cleared his throat. “So….you know were going to have to talk about this sometime Sam.”  
  
Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing to tell.” He said quietly still looking out the plain window.   
  
“Nothing to tell?” Dean stated incredulously. “You nearly killed yourself Sam! Don’t tell me there’s nothing to talk about!” Dean yelled angrily. Getting up out of his seat and towering over Sam he stared Sam in the face but soon realized that he was doing nothing but scaring Sam.   
  
Sam flinched but still said nothing.   
  
“Geez.” Dean sighed while sitting back down in the chair. “None of this is coming out right.”   
  
There must have been something in his voice because Sam actually turned to look at him.  _At him!_  Which was a miracle in and of itself.   
  
“Got your attention now kiddo.” Dean chuckled as he gently laid his hand on top of Sam’s. Sam looked down at the connected hands with a furrowed brow.  
  
It was sad to see how genuinely shocked Sam was at the small form of comfort. He remembered times when all Sam had to do was look at him then Dean would aimlessly go off in search of whatever Sam wanted.   
  
He promised him anything and everything. Dean winced but quickly composed himself.   
  
“Listen…I’d be lying to say I wasn’t angry but I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself.” Dean sighed as Sam stared on with mild interest. “I’m actually surprised it took this long for you to break. I probably contributed to most of it and….man Sammy are you really going to let me do this chick flick moment.”  
  
Sam gave him a goofy grin. “I would say yes but your attempt is pretty shitty.” Sam said hoarsely. His voice rough and scratchy from disuse. But boy it was so good to hear.  
  
Dean chuckled as he tightened his grip mindful of his injured wrist. “Listen you made mistakes I get that.” Dean said softly.  
  
“We all have made mistakes and I never should have made you feel so alone about it. Like an outsider. It shouldn’t have gotten this bad that you decided to try to-” Dean took a moment to breathe deeply preparing to say his inner most nightmares. “…kill yourself. And I’m sorry.”   
  
Dean waited to see if he would get an answer but Sam was still staring at him.   
  
“What I lay my heart out and all you could do is stare?” Dean asked incredulously.   
  
Sam shook his head and made a funny sound in his throat. Suddenly the waterworks came out and he cried.   
  
Long and hard he cried.   
  
With Dean holding on to the last piece of broken family he had.   
  
If it was the last thing he did he would fix all this.   
  
Sam’s hysterics were garnering attention. Doctors and nurses alike all bent in the doorway to see who was making so much noise.   
  
If they wanted a show. They would get one. Dean grabbed the side of Sam’s jaw and bent in for a sweet gentle kiss. It always helped Sam calm down in the past.   
  
He forgot how good Sam tasted. Forgot how soft and succulent his lips were. Forgot the incredible sensation of ‘I’m kissing Sam’. He forgot how much he loved him. Dean forgot a lot of things.  
  
Dean made a needy sound but he quickly remembered Sam wasn’t up for sex yet and that wilted his hard on pretty fast.   
  
When Dean stopped Sam made a whiny needy moan that did things too Dean’s body no other woman or man could.   
  
He laid his forehead on his brothers and said softly.  _“Just me and you baby. We can get through this together.”_  
  
And right then everything seemed alright in the world.   
  


  
_When they say  
You’re not that strong  
You’re not that weak  
It’s not your fault  
And when you climb up to your hill  
Up to your place  
I hope your well_   


  
  
  
Suddenly there was a knock at the door interrupting there special time.  
  
Dean turned to give the man a forceful glare but the man wasn’t even looking at them at  _him._    
  
He was too busy ogling Sam and  _oh no_  that is not happening.   
  
The nerve of that asshole.   
  
Tightening his fist he felt Sam’s face nudge his own since his hands were still too sore to move. “It’s ok.” He whispered and just like that Dean relaxed.   
  
He also forgot how Sam could instantly calm and soothe him.   
  
“Gentlemen I see you’re doing well.” The doctor stated but didn’t try to hide his disgust in his tone. Doctor. Miller didn’t understand why the beautiful young man was with that behemoth in the first place.   
  
“Hello to you to asshole.” Dean mumbled under his breath.   
  
The doctor didn’t seem all that perturbed though.   
  
“Samuel can I talk to you in private?” The doctor questioned with that  _I really really don’t like you tone._  
  
“First of all it’s Sam and second you-!” Dean shouted but was quickly quieted by Sam’s soft voice.   
  
“It’s ok Dean. Listen doc, if you want to talk to me he has to stay here.” Sam said softly but was quietly freaking out.   
  
He felt sweat bead and fall down his back.   
  
He thought that his suicide attempt had taken care of it. But somehow they had saved his life; did they save the baby’s too? Sam didn’t know whether to be sad or glad. Be mad or joyous.   
  
 _Stupid stupid pregnancy hormones._  Sam thought to himself. No wonder he was on the fritz he was  _still_  pregnant.   
  
What would Dean think? Suddenly it felt like Sam’s world began to crumble all over again.   
  
Dean gave the doctor a cocky smirk as he slid down into the chair and grasped Sam’s hand to piss him off even more. He didn’t even realize how nervous and terrified Sam was.  
  
“My apologies  _Sam._  As I was saying I didn’t want to bother you when on suicide watch and with you getting much needed rest but we have to discuss the care of your unborn child. We were able to save it and our obstetrician says everything looks normal and should run smoothly.”   
  
Sam froze in the bed and slid panicked eyes to Dean who seemed to be dumbstruck.  
  
“You’re pregnant!” Dean blurted out in awe.   
  
Dean didn’t know if he knew how to think. How to breathe.  
  
Couldn’t say a word even if someone put a gun to his head.   
  
Sam pregnant? Did Sam sleep around while he was gone? He unconsciously squeezed Sam’s hand tighter not even realizing he was causing him more pain.   
  
Sam winced at the added pressure. Dean knew and not he hated him. Great. Just another thing that Dean can make fun of him for.   
  
He didn’t even realize that tears were slipping down his face to wet the neck of his gown.   
  
The doctor seemed pleased with the outcome. “I’m sorry  _Dean_  you didn’t know?” The doctor asked with fake sympathy.   
  
Dean growled low in his throat. He was about to get up and throttle the son of a bitch when Sam’s hand squeezed his just as tight.   
  
“Doctor,” Sam whispered hoarsely. “Can we have a few moments, please?”   
  
The doctor felt rather sympathetic for the young man. But his lover or whatever the hell you wanted to call that caveman, he did not. The man obviously lied about being brothers because if they were that would truly disgust him. Also the man had blatant disregard for the people around him. He ogled the nurses and showed no respect to him. Which as a renowned doctor he demanded respect. If the young boy wasn’t so wrapped up in that ogre Doctor. Miller would unashamedly say he would hit that in a heartbeat.   
  
With a sympathetic smile he turned to the boy and said, “Of course Mr. Winchester I’ll be back in a few moments to check on you.” With that the doctor slowly closed the door and left the room.   
  
Dean turned to stare at Sam still dumbstruck. He was at a loss for words.   
  
Sam had the decency to look ashamed. His face was tinged bright pink and Dean knew that, that wasn’t just from crying.   
  
Crying.  
  
Suddenly Dean felt like an idiot. He thought Sam was just being his emo self but all the crying Sam did was an indicator that his hormones were on the fritz and the only way that worked was when you were pregnant.   
  
“Sammy…” Dean started but was cut off by Sam’s sad voice.   
  
“Don’t, please don’t.” Sam sobbed. “I did-didn’t want to burden you with more. I….” Sam forgot all about his sore wrists and brought both hands up to cover his face in shame. He didn’t want Dean to see his tears. Didn’t need Dean’s sympathy or compassion.   
  
“Hey, hey hey!” Dean yelled softly dragging Sam’s hands down gently. “It’s ok.” He whispered.   
  
“It’s mine isn’t it?” Dean asked gently.   
  
“I’m sorry.” Sam whispered.   
  
“Don’t be sorry. It was my fault anyway. Besides I’m happy.” Dean stated with obvious tears in his eyes.   
  
“Happy? But what about the apocalypse and your secret angel meetings?” Sam asked bewildered.   
  
“Secret angel meetings? Dude what have you been smoking?” Dean joked. Sam’s face was full of bewilderment and apprehension. Like Dean would snap at him at any second for something Dean did.   
  
“Sammy why would I be mad at you? If I remember correctly the last time we had sex it was a quickie in the car and  _my_  cock was up  _your_  ass so I think I warrant the blame on this one.” Dean chuckled at how red faced Sam got.   
  
“Dean…” Sam whispered harshly. “This isn’t funny! I-I’m pregnant! This isn’t ok!” Sam yelled.   
  
“But it can be.” Dean offered softly.   
  
Sam took an audible gulp.  _But it can be._  
  
How can anything be alright? He was pregnant, the world was coming to an end and Dean was busy. He didn’t need to have to take care of a baby on top of that.   
  
“But it can be Sammy. But next we have sex I’m buying like ten thousand condoms. I didn’t realize I had super semen.” Sam looked absolutely horrified.   
  
Dean settled his hand on top of Sam’s and looked him in the eye. “Listen whether you or I like it were going to have a baby and we just have to deal with it as it goes along.”   
  
“Ok.” Sam admitted quietly. New adoration shone in his eyes at his brother’s optimistic attitude.   
  
Maybe they could get through this after all.   
  


  
_It’s not enough  
No, it’s not enough  
Not enough_   


  
  
**_The End_ **


End file.
